


Now

by trialanderror12



Series: Now and Again [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Happy Ending, How did this even happen, Loki has all the feels, M/M, first marvel!fic, if you blink you'll miss it, might only be Steve/Tony in my head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 07:15:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3281627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trialanderror12/pseuds/trialanderror12
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki loses it. Thor doesn't react the way he expects (but gives him something he hadn't dared to hope for).  Loki/Thor, maybe Tony/Steve (if you blink you'll miss it). </p><p>First Marvel!fic, go easy on me.  Written for someone who will know who they are once I gather the courage to tell them this exists. (Anyone care to offer opinions as to whether or not I should do that?)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atypicalsnowman](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atypicalsnowman/gifts).



“Then _WHAT WILL IT TAKE_!” Loki screams, his hoarse cry wrenched out of him by a force not entirely under his control, echoes bouncing off countless canyon walls, reverberating over and over again in his ears as an immediate and haunting reminder that it’s far too late to take it back now. Not that he thinks he could if he tried. Everyone on the battlefield freezes, off-balanced by the raw, guttural anguish in his plea. Those closest to Thor show clear bewilderment, glancing subtly back and forth between the two; though he does happen to be quite literally standing on the edge of a cliff, Loki knows he hadn’t seemed the type to break. Thor’s gaze zeroes in on his brother’s with laserlike focus, trying to judge the sincerity of Loki’s complete and utter loss of control. (Loki might have found this amusing as well as satisfying had he been pulling the veil of illusion over his eyes; as it was, he found himself fighting the urge to give into tears of sheer exhaustion.) The mere mortals on the ground remain still and silent, rightly gauging the newly increased level of peril surrounding them. “I fight with you, against you. I trick you, test you, turn on you. I conquer a _world_ to stand equal to you as King; I pit myself against your newfound comrades in battle, again and again, force you to gather them _all_ to stand a chance at waging war against my power. I have moved mountains for you—” Loki’s voice breaks. “What must I do to make you _see_ me again?”

Thor visibly starts, his expression shifting to something new(old) and unguarded. Tony takes a step forward, preparing to intervene, but Steve catches his eye and shakes his head quickly, once, in dissent. He eyes the two with something different behind his eyes than the others; something preternaturally knowing, perhaps a bit wise. How the hell he manages _wisdom_ after seventy years in an ice block is beyond Tony, but after a second’s hesitation he obediently falls back, retaking his place in the tight semicircle the team has formed behind Thor.

Thor stares openly at Loki for a few moments, weighing his guess against all he has seen and Loki has done. Then, impossibly gentle, “Is that what this is all about?”

Loki lets out a harsh laugh and runs his hands through his disheveled hair, pulling briefly at the roots with a white-knuckled grip that persists, nails digging into his palms, until he begins to draw blood. He feels torn, half beyond any semblance of regaining control and half mired in self-hatred that he’d dared let go in the first place. “Hasn’t everything been?” he asks, his voice a strange echo in the canyon that remains silent save for the quiet-heavy-hushed breathing of thousands and them, always the two of them, when had it ever been anything else? But Thor is still staring at him, that oldnew openness shifting only enough to allow a sliver of that achingly familiar _I will decipher you, Loki_ expression to show on his face; a strange mix of curiosity, self-assuredness, and protectiveness that could only, only ever be Thor. And Loki caves (he always caves how could he withstand this, him; all this time and one glance was all it took to break him down, mark him a slave to his every whim) and gives Thor the straight answer he knows he was seeking. “Always.”

Seven steady, thundering steps bring Thor a hairsbreadth from Loki’s reach, so close but _just_ too far away. As he always has been. Always would be.

“All you ever had to do was ask,” Thor rumbles, and Loki _quakes_ at the power in that voice, lovehates what it does to him.

A snarled bark of half-hysterical laughter erupts from somewhere deeply damaged inside, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender, humoring his brother. “Centuries of unending suffering, and I’m to believe it could have all been avoided had I said _please_?” he sneers, cursing the catch in his throat, hating the part of himself that, for a split second, almost believes.

But Thor doesn’t even pause to take a breath. “Yes,” he says simply, strength and calm and unmoving, and Loki’s world tilts upside down.

He well and truly _breaks_ , the last of the ice inside of him shattering at the merest touch, the single caress of the _truth_ of Thor’s words resonating inside him. It’s everything and anything and too much and not enough and—but Thor isn’t _doing_ anything, he’s just standing ever-so-slightly out of reach and _staring_ far more intently than— 

Oh. _Oh._ Loki’s face twists in agony as the final piece falls into place, as he realizes what Thor’s waiting for, says he has _always been_ waiting for. 

“Thor,” he chokes out, shaking with the effort of saying the words. “Thor, _please_.”

Thor is on him in an instant, his mouth hot and hungry against his, and Loki sobs into the kiss, clutches desperately at the cloth covering his brother’s shoulders as Thor’s arms twine around him, palms pressing into the small of his back and gathering him close. He loses himself wholly and completely in their embrace, relearning Thor’s mouth, the scrape of his beard, the things that make him moan. He can’t bear to pull away when they part for breath, tugs him closer instead, and Thor follows, one large hand tucking Loki’s head into the crux of his neck while the other draws soothing patterns up and down his back.

Noise erupts around them, the shocked gasps and whispers of the crowd building up into a low, consistent hum of sound. He’s pretty sure he hears a few way-too-expensive weapons being dropped in shock, and he makes an educated guess that the loud metallic clang was someone kicking Stark in the shin before he made an ass of himself. He knows this isn’t over; that it won’t be easy. There are problems to solve, things to face and atone for, nigh insurmountable challenges ahead. But Loki isn’t afraid. He has Thor, now. And for the first time in far, far too long, he knows he is safe.

**Author's Note:**

> What is this even. I don’t know, you guys. I really don’t. (I am a poor sad uneducated Marvel!fic newb, so please to not be hating anything that seems ridiculous or un-canon to you.)


End file.
